Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter 29

The dance of mirrors

Elene pulled at her sleeve for the tenth time that evening, wondering if everyone else could see the ridiculous black blobs which used to be her eyelashes as clearly as she could. Lathered with some form of kohl, they hovered there at the top of her vision, taunting her, making her want to pick at them. She quietly hoped they wouldn't affect her aim with throwing knives. Before she could pull at the other sleeve in agitation, Xan's hand caught hers and placed it primly on her lap.

"Calm yourself, you will do fine. Just follow my lead," he said.

Swallowing, she tried to focus on what he was saying instead of the warmth of his hand. She wondered if it was her imagination that his touch lingered longer than it should have, until he drew back and looked outside. His expression was unreadable. Unlike her, he didn't need to get made up like a doll for the dinner. If anything, he looked completely at ease in a rich blue doublet fit for a handsome elven noble, which was not far from the truth. He looked perfect for the role because he had been born and bred for it.

Stop looking at him. It's not going to help calm your nerves.

Imoen had confronted her on her 'relationship' with Xan the night before. At first, she didn't understand what her friend was getting at. But through the course of the day, she began to examine Xan's interactions with her and her own reaction to him…she discovered that she looked forward to speaking with him every day, and to be on the receiving end of his rare smiles. Since then, it had gotten difficult to look him in the eye without an unwelcome flush of heat suffusing her cheeks.

Madness. He's practically my tutor. There's no way he would entertain such notions.

Get your head on straight, Elene.

They were alone in the carriage as it made its way to the Seven Suns headquarters for dinner. Kivan sat in front with the driver, while Khalid, Jaheira and Imoen were with Aldeth in his carriage ahead of them. The first minutes of the journey had been spent going through their tactics for the night, but once that was done, there was only the wait.

Magic would have served her best as disguise but Aldeth warned them that those in the merchant circle were a paranoid bunch. If any trace of magic were detected on them from the get-go, all bets were off for the night. So they enlisted the service of Aldeth's servant to dress her and apply strange alchemical substances to her face. That last bit was necessary to make her look less like the bounty sketches she now knew came from the Iron Throne, thanks to Davaeorn's letters. And it worked. She barely recognised herself once they were done.

Even so, she still felt like a wobbly calf wandering into a den of wolves.

The carriage drew to a stop in front of the Seven Suns headquarter, a large, elegant building not far from Aldeth's home. A furtive glance outside told her that Aldeth was already being escorted out of his carriage while Kivan had hopped off his seat from the front.

"Alright, think merchantly thoughts," she muttered to herself.

Xan cracked a wry smile but said nothing. His eyes dark, he was all business now.

Taking a deep breath, she took Kivan's proffered hand as he helped her out of the carriage. His help was hardly necessary, she thought. The dress she wore was light and didn't constrain her movement. It wasn't quite the height of fashion in the Gate, Coran had observed, but the skirts were flowy enough for her to conceal the knives strapped to her legs. Likewise, Xan's moonblade had been transmogrified into an elegant silver sword which looked more decorative than dangerous. They were not foolish enough to go into this unarmed, even with Khalid, Jaheira, Imoen and Kivan close by as bodyguards.

Coran had opted to be on watch from the opposite building, preferring not to get directly entangled in whatever mess the merchant circles were in. If the worst were to come to pass, he would have to be the one to bring in the guard and make sure none escaped.

Aldeth wiped at his brow as she and Xan approached. Nervousness rolled off him in waves despite his best effort to compose himself. Perhaps they should have taken Coran's advice, let him take some liquid courage before they set off.

"Right then, my fellows. Into the lion's den we go," muttered Aldeth, leading them inside.

For a human's base of operations, Elene noted that the interior of the building seemed especially dim. Elegant tapestries hung from the wall, the carpets and tablecloths made of fine fabric, candelabras all about were trimmed with gold. Her shoes clicked on marble as they crossed the foyer into the lunge. The entire colour palette of the place seemed designed to please the eye. And yet…the feel of the place set her teeth on edge.

As they crossed the threshold of the lounge, she caught sight of a few men either seated in stuffy chairs or standing about in earnest conversation. One of those in the chairs, an aged man in black robes, got to his feet at the sight of Aldeth and began to approach them.

"There you are, Aldeth. Fashionably late, as usual," the man said, an indulgent smile spreading across his face. He was joined by another man in fashionable leather armour. Irlentree, Elene noted, taking in the armoured man's unusually tanned features for someone born and raised in the Gate, just as Aldeth had described him.

"You know me, Zorl. Always have to make an entrance," replied Aldeth with false cheer.

Zorl turned to Xan. "And who's this? You didn't mention you'd be bringing…guests?"

From there began the most stilted round of introductions Elene had ever seen. Xan was introduced to Zorl and Irlentree as Vael of Waterdeep, a merchant specialising in iron-wrought ornaments and decoration while she was his wife and business partner, Maera.

"We've had some issues procuring good iron of late. Our customers were quite irate when some of the ironwork they bought chipped away after weeks instead of years. Terrible for business, that. We'd be interest in…injecting funds into reliable suppliers moving forward, if that can secure us good iron in the future," explained Xan, the lie rolling off his tongue with convincing ease.

Instead of being piqued by the prospect of coin, though, Irlentree frowned at Aldeth. "Be that as it may, tonight's discussion is between the established members of the Gate. I'm not sure what you hope to achieve by bringing Lord Vael along."

"Oh, I intend to have Lord Vael and Lady Maera on hand throughout the discussion. Who knows, we might gain a thing or two from their participation in this… alliance." Aldeth's smile was beatific. "Who else is here?"

"The faces you'd expect. Jhasso and Maireen from the Seven Suns, Nortuary and Zhalimar from the Iron Throne," replied Zorl, jerking his chin to the nearby guests.

"Nortuary?" Aldeth wrinkled his nose in distaste. "What, Rieltar thinks it beneath him to mingle with the likes of us now?"

"Perhaps he's merely indisposed. I heard he's moving in for the kill on another deal soon," said Irlentree.

For some reason, both of Aldeth's partners smirked at that remark. Gooseflesh prickled at Elene's skin, but she resisted the urge to glance at Xan despite her sudden spike of discomfort.

"Ahh, I see all our honoured guests have arrived!" A tall, reed-thin man clapped his hands together in the middle of the lounge. A smile gleamed on his face, but Elene noticed that it looked like it had been pasted on somehow. "Allow me as host to welcome you the dining hall. The best conversations are had over good food and wine, yes?"

The guests in question slowly trickled toward the hall. Elene noticed there was only one other woman in the crowd, a human with grey streaks in her dark hair walking side by side with the host. These two must be Jhasso and Maireen, the heads of the Seven Suns, as they matched the description Aldeth had given them earlier.

As befitting a more intimate setting, the dining table had been set up to accommodate less than ten people despite the large space afforded by the hall. At the dinner table, she and Xan were seated next to each other and opposite two armoured men, while Aldeth sat on Xan's other side. The dark-haired man in front of Elene was impossibly tall, with the tanned, leathery skin of a well-travelled adventurer. Next to him was a man with a pale. waxen complexion, more akin to the spoiled nobles Elene had encountered in Candlekeep in the past.

The tall man bowed his head slightly as he addressed her, the motion almost reverent. "Good evening, my lady. Lucky we are indeed to be graced by beauty such as yours this eve. I am Zhalimar Cloudwulfe of Sembia."

"You are too kind, my lord. I am Maera of Waterdeep," she mirrored his gesture.

"Not often we see an elven lady around these parts," his companion raised an eyebrow. "I am Nortuary, the Iron Throne representative from Sembia."

Xan ducked his head. "And I am Vael of Waterdeep. My wife and I are old friends of Aldeth."

Elene didn't miss his emphasis on her supposed relation to him and neither did the men before them, she suspected.

"Ah yes. Aldeth's always kept such interesting friends," Nortuary replied with a condescending smile.

Aldeth wrinkled his nose and proceeded to ignore him.

"What brings you all the way from Sembia, my lord?" asked Xan, likewise not rising to the bait.

"A routine meeting with Rieltar on some matters. But I've been fobbed off by the Anchevs for the past few days and asked to help with this negotiation instead." Nortuary huffed in displeasure. "I know hide nor hair of what's supposed to take place tonight, everyone's been so ridiculously hush hush about things. I'm sure Zhalimar here knows but he's just holding out on me out of spite."

"I serve the Iron Throne faithfully, my lord. It would not be in my interest to keep you in the dark on important matters," Zhalimar replied, his tone mild.

Even as he spoke to Nortuary, his eyes were on Elene. Now that she'd had time to focus on him, she began to notice there was an unusual intensity to his bearing, his gaze. Those were not the eyes of a merchant, she realised. Unlike his companion, this Zhalimar had the feel of someone who has hunted and killed men in his life.

She knew because she had the same eyes.

No matter what she'd claimed to her companions, in truth she remembered what happened when she faced Davaeorn. The raw power she wielded, the pursuit of blood. The raging desire to punish her enemy for threatening those she cared about. As much as she would like to pretend it was a foreign influence, she knew now that the killing instinct came from within. But she was too much of a coward to admit the truth out loud, for fear that she would drive the others away.

Belatedly, she realised that he could probably read her as well as she could him. So, she dropped her gaze demurely to her fork, pretending to admire the silverware.

Dinner was a delicious yet painful affair. Nortuary spent the entire meal complaining about the weather, the food, the Anchevs and even the cobblestones of the Gate. Nothing seemed to please the man, yet he seemed to take pleasure in Xan's company, his eyes lingering on the enchanter for long stretches. Zhalimar tried to engage Elene in other conversation in between, asking about her role in her 'husband's' business and what she thought of the Gate so far. All the while dissecting her with that quiet, piercing gaze.

She felt like she'd managed to hold her ground throughout their conversation, but by the time the servants cleared the mains, she felt drained from the bouts of verbal thrust and parry she'd played with him. At one point, it must have begun to show, as she felt Xan give her hand a squeeze under the table, as if reminding her to keep her guise up.

"If you would excuse me, gentlemen. I would like to freshen up," she folded her napkin as she left the table.

Xan gave her a look of mild concern but let her go without comment.

As she vacated the dining hall, she heard Maireen say, "Desserts are coming up, gentlemen. Might not be to the taste of everyone, but I am certainly going to enjoy what's coming!"

What an odd thing to say as host.

A servant pointed her to a powder room further down the west wing of the building, with wash basins already set up for guests. She washed her hands and somehow remembered not to splash the water onto her face and ruin the paint she wore. For a few breaths, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. The woman there looked nothing like the girl out of Candlekeep, blobs of kohl over her eyes and everything.

She felt like she'd played her role well so far, just as Xan and Jaheira prepared her for the past two days. They'd trained her to deal with every aspect of this charade. And yet, did Zhalimar catch on that she was not who she seemed? Why did he look at her so?

Exhaling slowly, she squared her shoulders as she frowned at her own image. Either way, if there was some form of game on for the night, the trap should be sprung soon. She had to pull herself together and be alert for it.

As she palmed the door to the powder room, she was surprised to see Irlentree loitering just outside. He seemed to be admiring a painting, a small pipe in his hand. The very picture of nonchalance. Noticing her, he turned and bowed his head. There was a slight stiffness to the gesture and his eyes were shadowed in the dim light.

"Good evening, Lady Maera. You are well, I hope?"

"I…yes, my lord," she replied, thrown by his unexpected presence. "And you?"

"I am, indeed. Apologies, we didn't get a chance to speak with one another properly before dinner."

"Well, there's always dessert, and I believe we are to have a meeting after that? To discuss business with the Iron Throne and Seven Suns?" she said, trying to keep the nervousness out of her voice.

"Yes, business." Irlentree nodded, extinguishing his pipe. "But before that, I was hoping you could humour me. I am curious, I've known Aldeth almost his whole life and he's never mentioned you or your husband, my lady. I can't help but wonder where he's been hiding you all this time."

Elene smiled, a practiced line ready on her lips. "Oh, my husband and Aldeth bonded over their love of ironwork after they met once in Waterdeep. That was years ago. It was never a business relationship. Only recently we became interested to expand in this region."

"Ah, that explains it. He does love those little handmade metal trinkets he keeps bringing back from the north." Irlentree nodded sagely. He began to approach her. "Is it just the two of you in the Gate? Or you brought your company along?"

"Just us. We didn't want to impose on Aldeth's hospitality."

A benign smile remained plastered on her lips, but she kept her hands loose at her side, at the ready. There was something peculiar about Irlentree's behaviour. She couldn't quite put her finger on what it was. But somehow her instinct was screaming that she was in danger.

"That is very considerate of you. But I think you can drop the act now." He stopped right in front of her, then gazed at her with quiet intensity, as if memorising her features. His gaze sharpened as he looked her square in the eyes. "You are indeed a lovely woman, Lady Maera. Such refined bone structure. Your eyes are especially exquisite." Then his lips curved into a crooked smile. "I can do many things with such a face."

Without warning, he made to grab her. She stepped away in reflex, eyes wide.

"Lord Irlentree, what are you doing?" she asked, her pitch rising.

"Ssssssilence, meat," the man hissed.

To her horror, his blue eyes turned to quicksilver, and when he swiped at her again, his fingers elongated into jagged claws which could rend flesh in an instant. She hopped away, reaching for the knives under her skirt. One poorly aimed throwing knife was launched at him to buy her time, then she had the long knives out by the time he reached for her again.

Except it was no longer Irlentree. In his place was a grey shapeless…creature with skin that seemed to ripple in the light. Doppelganger, her mind screamed, even as she slashed at it. A shapeshifter who feasted on flesh. The creature shrieked and drew back. Elene stared at the wound she made, noting that its blood oozed a darker red than that of typical humanoids. Narrowing her eyes, she moved in with her blades before it could attack again. Once it lost the element of surprise, the creature wasn't prepared to face a woman who knew how to fight.

As she stood over its corpse, her head whipped up when she heard shouting from the dining hall. She tore down the hallway, skirts flying behind her. An Armour spell settled over her as she ran, heart hammering in her chest with every step.

Xan is alone in a room full of those things.

Please, please, Oghma, don't let me be too late!

By the time she arrived, dinner had turned into a massacre, with the doppelgangers transforming into their true forms as dessert arrived. Unlucky servants lay dead on the ground as the monsters made a beeline for Xan and Aldeth. Xan's moonblade had already left its sheathe, its blue flame arcing bright against his foes. She nearly sighed in relief when she saw Khalid had already zipped in to defend the two men. It really was an inspired idea to give the Boots of Speed to him, the memento from her opponent in Cloakwood. With them on, he could close distances in half the time to get into the action.

Jaheira, Kivan and Imoen also joined the fray, traces of dark blood already on them. Then the guards outside must have also been doppelgangers. Almost everyone in the building was an impostor, she realised. Aldeth would have stood no chance of survival had he gone in on his own. Incensed, Elene chose the nearest creature and went to work, intent on cutting her way to Xan to make sure he was alright.

Her blood hummed as she fought, her senses razor sharp again once she entered battle. Bizarre and unnatural as the creatures were, she noted that they shared some similar biological structures. For instance, jugular, heart, liver, these were all where she expected them to be, judging from her own kills. But they had an annoying habit of being able to guess where she was about to strike, which reinforced what she'd read about them in Candlekeep, that they could read surface thoughts.

I gave us away, didn't I? They must have sensed I was an impostor the moment I walked through the door.

Gritting her teeth, she dispatched her last opponent with a brutal slash through the throat as it tried to feint its way past her defences. Her dress was already torn in places, but the shimmering armour protected her from the worst harm. Yet a relieved smile formed when she closed in on Xan. Other than a few cuts and a painful looking slash across his chest, he seemed to be in one piece. Likewise, a sheen of magic enveloped him, his own armour in place.

"Thank Corellon you're alright, I thought they've gotten to you," he breathed as he saw her.

"I thought they got you," she told him.

"They're going to get both of you if you don't shut up and fight!" yelled Aldeth from behind Xan.

Jarred back into action, they closed ranks around Aldeth to fend off the remaining creatures. In the end, despite their numbers, the doppelgangers were no match for their disciplined group. Once Kivan had shot an arrow through the last of them who tried to flee, Elene moved off to investigate what was left of the dining hall.

The carpets squelched as she walked. It was a good thing they were already dark red, she mused morbidly. Dead servants littered the ground, some clustered around the closed door leading to the kitchen. She tried the door and found it locked. Whoever planned this did not intend for a single soul to walk out of this place, not even the servants. As she circled back, she saw Nortuary on his back, his throat torn out. She tried to work up sympathy for the man but found that she couldn't. At least his death was quick.

She took another look at the faces of the dead. Jhasso, Maireen, Zorl and Zhalimar were nowhere to be found.

"Is everyone alright?" Jaheira called out.

Murmurs of assent went out among the group.

"Speak for yourself, I've had the worst night of my life!" exclaimed Aldeth.

"Look on the bright side. At least ya live to have an even worse night another day," Imoen patted him on the shoulder.

Aldeth's answering laugh sounded borderline hysterical.

Kivan and Imoen escorted him out to summon the Flaming Fists while the rest combed the building from top to bottom searching for more doppelgangers. But there was no sign of another living creature, they were the only ones left standing. Whoever was the mastermind of this scheme, they were either dead in the dining hall, or long gone. Elene wondered what Scar would make of this mess.

Eventually, the Flaming Fists arrived in force to secure the area. The stunned face of the officer in charge spoke volumes about the situation, with bodies of strange creatures littering the floor. Not what he expected a highbrow dinner of the top merchant guilds in the Gate to look like. It was a good thing Aldeth was a witness to the horror, his word prevented them from being hauled to the Flaming Fist compound for overnight questioning.

In the end, Imoen and Coran remained at Aldeth's side to make sure he remained safe in his manor for the night. As part of Aldeth's thanks, the others were sent back to the Elfsong in the carriage she and Xan had ridden in earlier in the evening.

It was in the twilight hours as Elene lounged on the divan in her room, all cleaned up with her journal face down on her lap. With all that had happened, she could not bring herself to slip into reverie. Her thoughts kept straying back to Zhalimar Cloudwulfe of Sembia. Kivan told her he'd left the dining hall before the fracas, presumably to allow Nortuary to take charge of any negotiations after dinner. Yet his timely exit seemed too convenient for her taste.

Or so she tried to tell herself. If she were honest, the man gave off an aura that reminded her strangely of Davaeorn. There was something off about these Iron Throne goons and she wanted to know what it was. What if they held the answers to the origin of her mysterious powers? Could that be why they hunted her so?

A knock jarred her out of her thoughts.

Without skipping a beat, she took a knife in hand and hid it behind her back as she went to the door. Cracking it open, she was surprised to see Xan standing on the other side. His shoulders were tense. She pulled the door all the way and glanced down the corridor for threats.

"Is everything alright?" she asked.

"No horde of monsters out to get us at the moment, rest assured," he replied in a dry tone but hesitated before he spoke next. "May I come in?"

"Of course."

Stepping back, she placed her knife on the table by the door as he entered. He set his jaw when he noticed it.

"I admire your caution. Yet it is disheartening that it is required of you in the first place."

"It's a habit after that one hunter attacked me in my room," she half-shrugged as she shut the door behind her. Suddenly she felt anxious. It wasn't the first time he'd been in her room, but certainly the first without Imoen with her. "Is something the matter? If you need healing, I'm not really open to using my abilities anytime soon, after…" she trailed off with a vague hand gesture.

"No, healing potions have taken care of that scrape," he said, rubbing his chest.

She tilted her head, waiting for him to continue.

"I…I've been meaning to give you something," he admitted, at last. "It is something for your nameday. Where I come from, we give a token to commemorate years of great achievement, which you've certainly had." His lips twitched. "Something more substantial than an adventuring book, usually."

"That's kind of you, but my nameday is weeks away," she smiled, suddenly feeling as apprehensive as she had been when a doppelganger was leering at her.

"You've said," he nodded. Then he took a deep breath before plunging ahead, "And I had meant to hold onto it until then, but after what happened tonight…what we faced tonight. I think you should have it now rather than later."

He plucked a grey velvet pouch from his pocket and held it out to her. In that moment, he looked almost nervous. Curious, she took the offered gift and fished out the item inside. Her eyes widened as she studied the long necklace in her hand, a gold chain with a moonstone pendant attached. As she touched the pendant, she could feel a tingle of magic within, marking it as an object with some form of enchantment.

"The pendant is imbued with a mind shielding charm. A minor one, but should still be of good use," he explained. "Use the same command word as you would the armour spell and touch the stone to activate its protection. It should help you resist creatures seeking to either pierce or control your thoughts."

"Was this the secret thing you bought at Halbazzer?" she finally looked up at him, referring to the proprietor of Sorcerous Sundries. She remembered that he'd snuck off at one point, huddled closely with Halbazzer Drin while they were shopping for magical goods, the first day in the Gate.

"The original necklace, yes." Then he smiled, and it was an unusually smug expression on him. In that moment, she saw a glimpse of the clever young mage who dabbled his art at Evereska's magic academy. "Then I added a bit of my own enchantment to bolster the protection. A specialty of mine. It now works better than what he sold."

He…put his own magic into it?

She stared at him. Words bloomed and died just as quickly at the tip of her tongue. All those dedicated years of studying and tutoring didn't prepare her to come up with anything to say for such an occasion.

"I…hope it will protect you, Elene." He cleared his throat, rambling somewhat in the face of her silence. "Given how many creatures come baying for your blood in a week, I would be happier knowing that you wear it."

Quietly, she slipped the chain over her head and allowed the pendant to settle on her chest, a light, comforting weight. In her eyes, it was both practical and beautiful. Just like the person who gave it, she observed. Before she could think better of it, she stepped forward and put her arms around him. His hair tickled her cheek as she rested her chin on his shoulder. Then she held him there in a tight embrace.

"Thank you, Xan," she whispered. "Of course I'll wear it."

She realised that her initial view of him, that of a wary, humourless elven lord had been a mere outline of who he was. What he wanted most to see to keep others at a distance. The months they'd spent together, however, had coloured in that outline. She now knew the real Xan was flesh and blood just like her, capable of fear, anger and apparently, affection. And to her own surprise, she found herself wanting that affection so badly that it pained her to think of not having it.

He stiffened at the contact, but after a long moment, she felt his arms close around her, his chest rising and falling as he breathed deeply against her. It almost felt like a sigh. She closed her eyes. If the Gods were to strike her down there and then, she would be fine with it.

As he pulled away, though, she was struck by how much his expression gave away as he looked upon her. One part wonder, one part longing and three parts pain. Yet his hands remained where they were, warm at her back.

"This is a terrible idea," he told her, even as his eyes searched hers.

"Why?" Her voice sounded petulant even to her own ears.

"Why?" he repeated with a huff. "I'm too old, you're too young, one or both of will likely perish horribly in our dangerous endeavour. Pick one of the hundred reasons why."

She leaned back slightly, watching him, sensing the uncertainty behind his rhetoric. "Do you really believe in any of those reasons?"

He blinked, not expecting her question in the least. Like she had just thrust a mirror to his face, and he hadn't expected to see how his own reflection looked. For a few long breaths, he seemed to struggle to come up with an answer. She swallowed, wondering if she was out of her mind. The rational voice in the back of her head was gibbering at her to back away, to not fight this battle with so many unknowns in what lay ahead of them. Her traitorous fingers, however, decided that they very much like the feel of his hair as they idly brushed over his collar.

Her touch seemed to spark something, as his gaze sharpened at the contact. His eyes then lowered to her lips even as he raised a hand to touch her cheek. "Someone once told me, to want is to suffer. I never fully understood what he meant. Not until today."

Then gently he tilted her face up, and she closed her eyes as his lips brushed hers. A tentative kiss, full of hesitation, but also promise. It was the latter that made her heart hammer in her chest, and she felt as afire as she would have been in battle. Slowly, she leaned into him, savouring the tingling feeling in her lips and the flush spreading up her spine as his arms tightened around her and she slid her fingers into his hair. She had no idea if she was doing it right, but for once in her life, she was content to not overthink things. When they broke apart, he rested his forehead against hers.

The room was silent except for their breathing, but loud with the implication of what they had just done.

"Which enchantment spell was that?" she breathed, feeling the giddiness in her too-wide grin.

His only answer was a soft laugh. But as he leaned in for another kiss, she saw that he looked unrestrained. And that the smile he wore finally reached his eyes.

.

Author's Note: Yeah, that happened.